


Operation Homestead

by orphan_account



Series: The Clones of Mandalore [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: All of Obi-Wan's grey hairs are named after Anakin, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Order 66, Cody is Duke of Mandalore, Everyone Is Alive, M/M, Mandalore, the clones deserve better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22930558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “I rendezvoused with the 501st,” Anakin informs him. “We’re go on Operation Homestead.”And just like that, Obi-Wan’s headache is back.“We’re not calling it that,” he says tiredly.“Uh huh. You comm your boyfriend? He knows we’re coming, right?”“Yes,” Obi-Wan says, then - “And the Duke is not my boyfriend.”“Whatever you say, Master,” Anakin snorts. “Skywalker out.”
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: The Clones of Mandalore [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1648051
Comments: 30
Kudos: 1193





	Operation Homestead

**Author's Note:**

> I fell head over heels in love with Gondolin's AU where Obi-Wan and Cody have an arranged marriage and desperately wanted to explore the ramifications of the clones having a living relative who might be able to lend a hand (and a home) to them after the war.
> 
> So here we have the start of a verse where Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon are sent to protect Cody, not Satine, who is left head of his clan after his older brother Jango is 'killed' in the Battle of Galidraan.

“General?”

Obi-Wan raises his head. Exhaustion is scored deep into his bones and he hurts everywhere but he forces a calm smile and looks up into the worried eyes of a young trooper. Obi-Wan doesn’t know his name. He tries, he does, but there are hundreds of thousands of men under his command and despite his best efforts he knows he’s spoken directly to only a fraction of them. This one is barely more than a shiny and behind his well-trained stoic expression, he looks very young and very frightened. “What will happen to us now?”

Wicks steps forward to run interference, his loyal Commander knowing all too well how heavily his men’s lives weigh on Obi-Wan’s mind. This isn’t something any of them should have to shelter Obi-Wan from, but Wicks tries and it says everything about the kind of man he is.

Reaching up, he touches his Commander’s elbow, halting his progress. “What’s your name?” he asks the young trooper.

“Kip, sir,” he replies. He’s brave, but there’s a thread of nervousness that runs through his voice.

Obi-Wan looks around at the rest of the men on duty. They’re quietly working, professional to the core every last one of them, but he can tell they are all listening in, holding their breath, waiting for his answer.

Obi-Wan finds it easier to smile in the face of their uncertainty. He’s been thinking about this day for a long, long time.

“What would you like to happen, Kip?”

The young trooper doesn’t shuffle his feet, but Obi-Wan knows how to read the minute details in the way he holds himself in his armor. “I don’t know, sir. There’s just... rumors?”

“Oh?”

He waits, lets Kip work up the courage to continue, and when he replies, “That they’re going to decommission us,” feels his heart sink into the floor.

“That won’t happen,” Obi-Wan promises him fiercely. “I swear to you. I will not let that happen.”

“How can you stop it, sir?”

Obi-Wan starts to answer, and then his commlink chimes. A smile starts to grow, warming him from the inside. _Cody_.

“To start? By answering this call,” Obi-Wan says with a little wink.

He opens the channel and the voice of a man he has loved since he was seventeen fills the bridge.

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,” the mere sound of Cody’s voice is a balm to the aching, wounded, whimpering mess that is Obi-Wan’s soul. It’s calm and strong, rich, familiar tones rolling over him in a comforting wave.

“Hello, dearest,” Obi-Wan says, an eye on Wicks, watching with a growing smile as his Commander’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “How are you?”

He sees Kip turn to Boil and hiss, “Is that Duke Fett?”

“ _You sound like shit_ ,” Cody says bluntly. Ah, that’s the man Obi-Wan knows so well. As subtle and tactful as a blaster bolt to the face.

“Please refrain from insulting me in front of my men,” Obi-Wan says mildly, “this is an open line of communication _._ ” He knows exactly what he’s telling Cody. They’ve talked about this in great detail. And Cody-

\- does not follow the script. “ _Uh-huh. Your Commander there?_ ”

Wicks looks like he’d rather face an entire droid army without a weapon than respond to Cody, but he clears his throat and squares up. “Yes, sir.”

“ _He look as shit as he sounds?_ ” Cody asks him.

“Cody!” Obi-Wan scolds.

“Three broken ribs, minor second-degree burns, and a concussion, sir,” Wicks reports promptly, a sideways glance at Obi-Wan that isn’t half as contrite as it should be.

“Commander!” He has an awful feeling that introducing Cody to any of his men will be a recipe for disaster.

“ _What’d you do this time, N’edee?”_

Someone sniggers softly in the background. Oh, Obi-Wan is never hearing the end of this.

“Killed a Sith Lord,” Obi-Wan says a little irritably. “The war is over. The Separatists have surrendered and the Chancellor is dead.” He’ll explain the specifics to Cody at a later date, but for now, that’s all he needs to know.

Cody doesn’t answer for a long minute, and when he speaks, his voice is rough and heavy with emotion. “ _You bringing them here?_ ”

“Is everything ready for us?”

“ _Thing’s will be a bit cramped at first,_ ” Cody says, sounding apologetic, “ _but yes._ ”

“Then I will be back in touch when we are about to approach Mandalorian space,” Obi-Wan says.

“ _Bring my vod’ika home, cyare_ ,” Cody says tightly, then ends the comm.

Silence hangs heavily over the assembled troopers. Most of them look confused. Some of them look hopelessly, helplessly uncertain. And then there’s Wicks, whose bright eyes hold a desperate glean of hope. _Please,_ they say _, please don’t let us down._

Obi-Wan stands, his movement jolting them all back to work. “Admiral,” he calls, turning his attention to the terminal in front of him, “lay in a course for Mandalore.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Are we not going back to Coruscant?” Wicks asks quietly.

“Certainly not,” Obi-Wan frowns. The Republic is in chaos, their victory by no means a guarantee of peace. He knows he has to act quickly before the GAR becomes a convenient focus for anyone scrambling to avoid being pulled into the sickly quagmire of corruption left in the Chancellor’s wake. “Cody’d have my head.” Among other things.

“You know the Duke well, sir?” Boil asks from the other side of the bridge.

Obi-Wan’s smile turns gentle. “I do. He’s a good man. A stubborn, nerf-headed, utterly infuriating man, but a good one. He and I have been friends for a very long time. He will take good care of all of you.”

Several of the men share a glance, well aware that most friends don’t usually address each other with such blatantly affectionate - and intimate - nicknames. Cody's thought of them all as brothers for so long that Obi-Wan will have to remind him to keep himself in check.

“We’re going to Mandalore?” Kip asks. “All of us? To...to stay?”

“For now,” Obi-Wan nods. “Provisions have been made for temporary accommodation and you’ll all be granted Mandalorian citizenship, but you’ll be free to choose your own paths. With support, of course.” He frowns in thought, then brightens considerably. “It might take a while, logistically speaking, but I do enjoy a challenge.”

They’ve lived to see this day. That is worth any future headache. And there will be many, he’s certain. He looks forward to them.

“ _All_ of us?” Kip asks, a little aggressively. He has the wounded look of a man who can’t bear to trust in something so fragile as hope.

“All of you,” Obi-Wan promises.

“Why would the Duke of Mandalore offer _citizenship_ to a bunch of clones? Republic clones.” Wicks demands. He’s never been so abrupt, or so informal, but Obi-Wan is well aware of the emotions he’s engaging with and endeavors to do his very best to shelter them from as much pain and uncertainty as he can.

Reaching out and laying a gentle hand on his Commander’s shoulder, Obi-Wan summons his most genuine of smiles. “Because you and your brothers are clones of _his_ brother. Which arguably makes you clan. If you chose to be. Those who do will legally fall under the protection of the clan Head, which, in this case, is Cody. As he is also Mandalore, he has the political authority to grant you citizenship.” And deal with the spectacular shitstorm doing so will create in the Senate. He and Obi-Wan have spent years ensuring they are ready for the fights to come.

He can tell the news has rocked his men in ways none of them know how to handle. Obi-Wan is proud of them, desperately so, and he knows how hard this transition will be on many of them.

But he doesn’t trust the Senate with their lives. Not when they have proven time and time again how little value they place on them.

“He was very upset when he learned of your connection to Jango,” Obi-Wan continues softly. “And absolutely furious with the Republic. I had to talk him out of storming the Senate and shooting the Chancellor in the face. Which, I suppose, in hindsight might not have been a bad thing...”

He’ll no doubt get a smug ‘I told you so’ from Cody for that as well. Or perhaps not. Cody might have the emotional sensitivity of a rampaging gundark most of the time, but he’s always been scarily adept at knowing what Obi-Wan needs. The lecture will likely be shelved until _after_ he’s indulged in some aggressive cuddling.

“They’re not going to like it,” Kip says warily. “The Senate I mean. We belong to them. They paid for us.”

Obi-Wan grimaces. At this point, he’s fairly sure a Sith paid for them, but that will hardly foster a sense of relief. “You let me worry about the Senate,” he says soothingly. “There are a number of legalities that will not hold up in court. And it will most certainly go to court.”

"The Duke of Mandalore is going to sue the Senate for us?" Boil asks flatly. "That'll be entertaining."

Won't it just?

“What about the Jedi, sir?” Wicks asks.

“Our hands are tied by our allegiance to the Republic,” Obi-Wan admits. “So while we cannot help outright, there are certain... grey areas to be exploited.” That soothes some of their anxiety. They all know him well enough to know that exploiting the rules is his specialty. 

His comm chimes again. Wicks falls back a step, both to give him space and to try and process the massive turn the day has taken.

“ _Hey, Master.”_ Anakin sounds as exhausted as Obi-Wan. More so, perhaps, his fatigue underlined with the sharp ache of betrayal. Obi-Wan worries about him desperately.

“Anakin. I’m glad to hear from you.”

“I rendezvoused with the 501st,” Anakin informs him. “ _We’re go on Operation Homestead._ ”

And just like that, Obi-Wan’s headache is back.

“We’re not calling it that,” he says tiredly.

“ _Uh huh. You comm your boyfriend? He knows we’re coming, right?”_

_“_ Yes,” Obi-Wan says, then - “And the Duke is _not_ my boyfriend.”

“ _Whatever you say, Master,_ ” Anakin snorts. “ _Skywalker out._ ”

He closes the link and Obi-Wan gives serious consideration as to whether or not it is too early to start drinking.

“He’s _not_ ,” he tells the gathered troopers, who all make a respectable show of rapidly nodding in agreement.

“I mean if he was-”

“Do not finish that sentence, Commander,” Obi-Wan threatens. “Anakin is insufferable enough as it is.” Wicks’ lip twitches as he fights off a shaky smile.

For that smile, Obi-Wan is willing to endure his share of teasing.

He can’t do anything to undo the past. He can’t even begin to make adequate reparations for the pain and the loss every single one of them has endured. All he can do now is fight for a freedom that should’ve been theirs at birth.

The war is over. A new battle is just beginning.


End file.
